


Warmer in the Winter With You

by Midnightminx90



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, First Meetings, Holidays, Home for Christmas, Meet-Cute, Winter's Crest (Critical Role)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:55:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28089615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnightminx90/pseuds/Midnightminx90
Summary: A Winter's Crest meet-cute feat. one half-orc and the tiefling that draws him in, no matter the time and place
Relationships: Fjord/Jester Lavorre
Comments: 7
Kudos: 73





	Warmer in the Winter With You

**Author's Note:**

> [Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5Zz9uSENmxpf9cXKPTr1IU?si=aawRRzwUQCKEtUsORn0gXw)
> 
> Sara Bareilles song is Jester's voice and Judy Garland for Marion
> 
> It wasn't a Meet Cute sadly, BUT on my trip back home for the holidays my first year at uni, the 1st class carriage had techincal issues and so everyone going to the end station were put on busses so those of us who were supposed to be in the 1st class carriage had to find seats throughout the rest of the train. I ended up next to someone, and for some reason we didn't exchange names, but we talked for most of the 6 1/2 hour trip. So I figured it was a good base for a fic when we talked about writing holiday themed FJ fics over on ther server

Fjord glances out the window into the dark morning. It’s winter, not something he is used to living by the coast and back in Port Damali the sun will be up by now. He can’t wait to feel the sun on his skin again, the warmth of it.  
  
It’s not that he doesn’t mind the cool, crisp air this far north, he just prefers the heat and the cooling breeze carrying with it the taste and smell of the ocean.   
  
The train ride home will take a long time, longer than he wants to think about, especially since he’ll be traveling alone and light on something to keep him occupied. Fjord’s old laptop isn’t much to brag about and he’s only got one dog-eared book, an old hard-cover version one that he picked out in a 2nd hand store that Beau had taken him to once.   
  
He knows it by heart, but it doesn’t matter. There is a comfort in the words on those pages, in knowing what’s going to happen. In the inevitable.   
  
“Hi, is this seat taken?”   
  
Fjord looks up to see a blue tiefling stand next to him, clutching a pink backpack. For a moment he just stares, before remembering to answer.   
  
“Uh, no, it’s not.” He moves his own backpack out of the way, all too aware how worn his is, while the stranger’s seems to be brand new and designer.   
  
He doesn’t notice the book falling to the floor, sliding out of his lap.   
  
“Oh, good!” She says as she plops down in the available seat. “There’s something wrong with the first-class carriage so they can’t use it and the cafe one is the same. So, I had to move to this one instead. I’m just glad I brought enough to eat for the trip!”   
  
Fjord feels taken aback by the barrage of words and the energy contained in them, especially for the first train in the morning. It’ll be dark out yet for some time this far north, not the longer, lighter days of the coast.   
  
“Hi, I’m Jester,” she says then, holding out a hand to him, and once again Fjord needs a moment to gather himself.

“Fjord,” he says, taking it.   
  
The woman, Jester, is still wearing her winter coat and matching gloves and hat, perched in such a way that he can barely see the tips of her horns. Her cheeks are flushed, and Fjord has to look away.   
  
“You going far? I’m going all the way to Nicodranas, and it’s going to take forever but I haven’t seen my mom in such a long time, and I didn’t want her to be alone during the holidays. Well, technically she never is, technically? But you know how parents are.”   
  
“I, I don’t actually,” Fjord admits, waiting for the pity that always follows those words.   
  
“Oh,” Jester says. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to! It’s the same with my friends, like Bren’s parents died in a fire when he was a kid and I know he feels guilty because he was supposed to be home but wasn’t, because he was hanging out with friends when he was supposed to be home for dinner? He moved in with his cousin Beau after that but her dad’s really shitty, like emotionally abusive, and they moved out together as soon as they could.”   
  
Fjord blink at the woman next to him, trying to comprehend all the words before it clicks.   
  
“You know Beau? Lionett?”   
  
“Oh, you know her too? Yah, she’s kind of like a sister to me but we don’t get to meet that often because of uni but we video chat like, all the time. Do you know Yasha too?”   
  
“Yeah, I do. Wait, you see it too, right? That they’re…”   
  
“Like _totally_ in love?” Jester interrupts. “Yah, it’s like, super obvious but neither of them sees it and I don’t want to tell them? You want in on our betting pool? It’s just a small sum for fun to see who’s the closest, like it doesn’t even have to be money, it could be like a chocolate bar or something.”   
  
“Sure,” he says before he has the chance to think it through. “I can do that.”   
  
Her smile is sweet and lights up the otherwise dimly lit carriage.   
  
Fjord looks away, not wanting it to seem like he is staring at her. The silence is awkward, especially after their hurried exchange of words from the moment Jester sat down.   
  
“Oh, is this yours?”   
  
He looks over to her, finding that she’s got his copy of The Count of Monte Cristo in her hands.   
  
“Yeah, it is. Thank you.” Fjord holds his hands out to take it from her, but Jester is looking down at it, turning it around to look at it.   
  
“Is it any good?” Jester asks him, holding the tattered book as though it’s just as fragile as it looks.   
  
“It is. Do you know anything about it?”   
  
“No. Want to tell me? You obviously really like this book, obviously.”   
  
“Sure, I can do that.”   
  
So Fjord talks, and he can hear how animated he sounds as he explains to her, about the betrayal and escape, the help and wealth and return under a new name.   
  
“When you grow up poor, when you don’t have the choices many others do, it’s easy to imagine what you would do in a situation like this. The amount of money is unfathomable, and it’s impossible to wrap your head around what so much could do for you, when even the smallest amount of money can make the difference between going hungry or having food, or losing the roof over your head from one day to the next. The orphanage was… We had somewhere to live. We had food. I’m grateful for that, and I know others who didn’t. But then you reach a certain age, and you’re kicked out because you’re too old and you have to take care of yourself. I was lucky, while others weren’t. I got a job, a place aboard a ship, so I had some place to stay.”   
  
Fjord takes a deep breath, not knowing where the words are coming from. He’s never talked with Beau about this, barely with Caduceus but that’s only because the firbolg has a sixth sense about things like these.   
  
“But I still kept thinking, wondering, what I would do if I had that amount. Except, now it wasn’t about grand palaces and expensive food. It was about what I could do for others if I had that much. So, I started volunteering. Serving food at shelters. It’s how I met Caduceus.”   
  
He takes out the symbol of the Wildmother he’d just been gifted.   
  
“That man believed in me, like not even Vandran did. I owe him a lot. He gave me purpose and hope.”   
  
Jester smiles at him.   
  
“Thank you for sharing this with me Fjord.”   
  
“You’re welcome. I don’t know why I did that though, I’m usually more…”   
  
“Silent?” she finishes, tipping her head to the side. “I get that a lot. Mama says there’s something about me that just makes people open up and I guess she’s right.”   
  
“Smart woman, your mother.”   
  
Jester’s smile grows impossibly brighter. “Yes, and she is like, really famous! Have you heard of the Ruby of the Sea?”   
  
Fjord stares at the tiefling next to him for a moment, and Jester laughs.   
  
“I’ll take that as a yes!”   
  
“Is it true that…”   
  
“That she’s as good in bed as everyone says? “Jester waggles her eyebrows and smirks as she asks the question in a sing-song voice.   
  
“What? No! Not that!” Fjord knows he is blushing now; he’s never been good with this. “No, I meant to ask if her voice really is that beautiful? I’ve heard people talk about her voice, but I haven’t heard her for myself.”   
  
“Oh, mama has the most wonderful voice! Here, I have some of her stuff recorded, wanna listen?”   
  
Jester holds up a pair of earbuds, placing them in his hand while she unlocks her phone and begins to look for the songs. When she looks up again, Fjord’s still holding the earbuds in his hands, so she takes both out of their box for him.   
  
“You don’t want to listen as well?”   
  
“I can listen to her all the time, it’s okay. Besides, it’s better if you wear both at once so you can really hear her voice, you know?”   
  
He smiles at her, suddenly all too aware of his tusks as he does.   
  
Jester hits play, and a voice soars into his ears, free of any instruments. Fjord’s eyes close on their own accord, and he leans his head back on the seat, doing his best to imagine the Ruby in her chateau, like on the posters he’s seen.   
  
Song after song plays, and it’s clear these are recorded for Jester, done at home and not in a studio, with just the two of them in a room.   
  
But then another voice comes on, and it takes a moment before Fjord understands it’s Jester singing now.   
  
_He bends his breath around my name_ _  
_ _And I am humbled, I feel small and plain_ _  
_ _But his arms are angels by his side_ _  
_ _You need not ask if they're open, just how wide_ _  
_ _  
_ _His lips are day and his skin is night_ _  
_ _Ooh, and with our love we conjure up twilight_ _  
_ _His fingers are music to my soul_ _  
_ _And I feel his song play everywhere I go_ _  
_ _  
_ The chorus starts up, but then the music cuts off abruptly.   
  
“Sorry, you weren’t supposed to hear that,” Jester says, one fang denting her lip and it’s clear she’s nervous.   
  
Fjord wants to reach out to stop her from doing that before she starts to bleed, but he keeps his hands in check.   
  
“You have a beautiful voice. Did you write that?”   
  
Jester nods, looking away from him.   
  
“It’s just a silly song,” she says. “Just forget what you heard.”   
  
“What if I don’t want to?” Fjord asks, and he can’t ever remember being as sincere as he is this moment. “Jester, it’s not silly, okay? I think it’s really good.”   
  
Jester shrugs, gaze still averted, and phone clutched in her hand in a tight grasp. He can see her background, a picture of Jester and her mom, and he feels more alone than he has in a long time at the display of love and affection that is so clear between mother and daughter.   
  
“Wanna watch a movie?” Jester asks, finally shrugging out of her embroidered winter coat. “I know of one I think you’ll like based on your book!”   
  
It’s a sudden and jarring change of topic, and Jester’s voice sounds like it did before again, only Fjord is able to pick up on the fact that she’s faking happiness to get him to drop the topic and that the song doesn’t really matter to her.   
  
“Sure,” Fjord replies, handing her the earbuds back, because he doesn’t have it in him to deny her.   
  
“No no, you keep one of them and I’ll take the other. It’s not the best but that way we both get to listen.”   
  
“Okay.”   
  
She takes a laptop out of her bright pink backpack, and the lid is filled with stickers of unicorns, hamsters and various sweet treats.   
  
“Want some?” she says and takes a paper bag out as well.   
  
The scent of freshly baked pastries waft out as she opens it, taking out a donut and putting it in her mouth as she logs on to her laptop, handing the bag over to him before he can reply to her question.   
  
A couple minutes later, Fjord has a bearclaw in one hand, using his other to put the earbud back in his right ear.   
  
“Good choice,” Jester says, mouth full of donut as she points to the pastry in Fjord’s hand. “They’re better in Nicodranas though because they make them with cinnamon. did you know that?”   
  
“I didn’t,” he replies, and takes a bite. “This one’s good though.”   
  
“Remind me to treat you to some once we’re there. I’m sure we can find some even that late.”   
  
“It’s a deal,” Fjord says, and Jester smiles at him again, and this time it’s genuine.   
  
“Ready?” She asks, and he nods.   
  
It’s a movie called Tangled, a reinvented version of the fairy-tale of Rapunzel. Not a movie he’d choose to watch himself, but he feels he understands Jester even better now, which seems impossible after maybe no more than an hour and a half.   
  
She’s right though. It is a good movie, and Fjord can feel Jester looking at him during the scene where Flynn tells Rapunzel his real name and his reasons for assuming his persona.   
  
Fjord had not expected a movie like this to affect him in such a way, and paired with The Count of Monte Cristo, it’s like seeing parts of himself come alive, making his thoughts wander back to his childhood, not knowing of any family, wanting a life of adventure and fame like people in stories he heard.   
  
Neither of them speak during the movie, watching together in silence as the landscape rolls by outside and the sky begins to lighten as the sun climbs over the horizon.   
  
\-   
  
The closing credits roll across the stream, upbeat music playing in his ear.   
  
Fjord looks over to Jester, her head still placed precariously on his shoulder, so her horns won’t hurt him. She’s asleep, dark eyelashes fanned out over her cheeks and she looks peaceful. Yet even asleep, Fjord can tell she’s full of life, her nose twitching and lips slightly moving.   
  
He closes her laptop and gently removes the pods from both their ears, putting them back in their case.   
  
As much fun as it is being with Beau and watching her make a fool of herself in front of Yasha, or relaxing when visiting Caduceus, Fjord can’t remember the last time he felt this much like himself. He feels… centred, in a way not even Caduceus can help him become.   
  
He smiles, picking up Jester’s coat to cover her with it so she won’t get cold, and then leans back in his seat, closing his eyes and falling asleep with her warmth at his side.   
  
\-   
  
Fjord doesn’t know how much time has passed when he wakes up, but Jester’s still asleep next to him. He imagines her neck must be sore by this point, but his thoughts are interrupted by the train personnel passing through the carriage to hand out food and water as an apology for the food carriage not being open.   
  
He accepts for Jester as well, trying not to move too much as he receives the items for fear of waking her.   
  
“What’s going on?” she mumbles then, as though reading his thoughts.   
  
“They just handed out food and something to drink, as an apology for the food cart not being available. It’s just a sandwich and some water, nothing much.”   
  
“Do you want mine as well? I’m not really that hungry and I brought more to eat.”   
  
“Food or pastries?” He asks, intending for it to be a joke but he can see the answer on her face, clear as day. “You need proper food Jester, okay?”   
  
“Okay.”   
  
“It was a good movie,” Fjord says, wanting to break the tension. “You were right about that. Favourite of yours? I could see you mouthing the lines.”   
  
“Right about you and the book and Eugene?”   
  
“Yeah, about that as well.”   
  
Jester’s silent for a while, then begins to speak, picking at the barely-touched sandwich in her hands.   
  
“Mama read me the story of Rapunzel when I was little, but it’s really very different from the movie. It probably sounds stupid, but I could see myself in her, you know? Growing up I didn’t have any friends, and some tried to pretend to like me only because mama’s famous and have lots of money. They never wanted to be friends with me, just who they wanted me to be, I guess? I was the weird girl, but I was also the rich girl, so they pretended since they thought they’d get expensive gifts or something, I don’t know.”   
  
She looks past him out the window, at the mountains in the distance.   
  
“It wasn’t a bad life because mama loves me and she did what was best, but I was always lonely. So, I started painting, and later pulling pranks on the patrons there. I would read books and come up with stories of what I would do if I were in one of those stories; the friends I would make and the guy I’d fall in love with and all the stuff we would do and see as we travelled the world and saved people. At first, I wanted to be the princess locked in the tower, waiting to be rescued, but then as I grew, I wanted to rescue others. Waiting for someone to save you is stupid, something kids do.”   
  
“It’s not stupid,” Fjord interjects, causing Jester to look at him again. “For so long I wanted that too, wanted for someone to adopt me and take me away. I think it’s a common thought for most people, no matter the reason. You don’t think Beau thought the same? Wanted someone to take her away from her shitty dad? It’s about knowing what you want but being unable to do something about it because you’re too young or don’t have the means to get away. Growing up and doing it yourself isn’t because you realised it was stupid to expect someone to help you; it’s taking matters into your own hands because you can do it, and down the line help someone the way no one helped you.”   
  
“Is that what you want, Fjord? To help others?”   
  
“Yeah. I want others to not have the shitty childhood I had, to not get their hopes up each time a new couple comes by the orphanage that ‘maybe today it’s my day’, but never being chosen. It kills you, little by little, each time. I want those kids to have a stable life and childhood, to not feel like they have to be grateful for the bare minimum. I talk to them when I can, try to lighten things up you know? If a half-orc like me can make it, then the rest of them can too. I just wish I could offer more than words; you know?”   
  
“I hope you get to do that one day,” she says.   
  
“And I’m sure you get that too, not wanting someone to go through with what you did.”   
  
“Yeah.” Jester nods.   
  
They fall silent after that, but it’s not an uncomfortable silence, though the seriousness of their conversation hangs heavy in the air.   
  
“After I watched it the first time, I started learning the song when they’re in the boat, watching the lanterns. I sang along all the time after that, wondering if I’d see the lights one day too, floating up outside my window. When I didn’t, I painted them in my room, and made a small plushie of Pascal, the chameleon. I made mom dance with me to the melody Eugene and Rapunzel danced to, and we’d spin around and around until we were so dizzy we fell over. And yet we’d do it again and again, knowing it would happen. It was our thing, you know?”   
  
She laughs at the happy memory, and Fjord does his best to commit the sound to memory.   
  
“I bet you miss her while you’re away at uni,” he says, trying not to sound jealous.   
  
“Yah, I do. But we talk a lot on the phone and video chat, and sometimes I’ll paint her while we’re talking, and it feels like she’s there with me.”   
  
“You paint?”   
  
“I do! I’m doing a BFA focused on painting, and I really like it, but…”   
  
“But?”   
  
“Like, I really like painting, but I don’t know if that’s what I want to do, you know? I want to feel useful, but I don’t know how to do that.”   
  
“Have you ever heard of art therapy?” Fjord asks, thoughts returning to moments before. “Because I think you’d be great for something like that.”   
  
Her smile is like the sun and Fjord is unable to look away.   
  
“That’s a really good idea Fjord! Thank you!”   
  
“Any time.”   
  
“You mean that don’t you?” she asks, and he burns under her searching gaze. “Want to see some of my pieces?”   
  
“I’d love to.”   
  
Jester shows him drawing and paintings and sketches of everything from her mother and Beau, to Caleb’s cat (which causes Fjord to sneeze automatically) and Jester’s dog that’s staying with her mother, to the northern lights and fields of sunflowers.   
  
Fjord might not know a lot about art, but he can see she’s clearly skilled, and there’s such a personality captured in the portraits. He looks at Beau and sees the haughty exterior crack, a smile on her face as though she was trying not to laugh but was unable to keep it in.   
  
“What will you do when you get back home? Where is your home, anyway?” Jester asks as she shows him paintings of Zadash in one moment and Nicodranas in the next.   
  
“Port Damali. But not for another few days; I wasn’t able to get a ticket until after Winter’s Crest, so I’ll be staying in Nicodranas until then. I don’t mind, there’s no one waiting back home, and I don’t mind the peace and quiet. Gives me a chance to explore this town.”   
  
“If you want to, I can make you a list of places you should see! There’s this lighthouse shaped like the Wildmother, and my favourite bakery, and a second-hand bookstore that’s got so many books!”   
  
“That would be great, thank you Jester.”   
  
“You’re welcome Fjord!”   
  
She opens her laptop again to bring up the map, then a notepad and a pen with a fake lollipop at the end. For each place name she writes down, she also shows him on the map and writes down the address.   
  
All the while, Fjord wishes for nothing more than to ask Jester to be his guide, but he knows how important family is and doesn’t want to take her away from her mother.   
  
\-   
  
The rest of the trip is spent talking and watching movies, sharing the rest of Jester’s pastries.   
  
\-   
  
By the time they reach Nicodranas, the sun is setting, casting a warm light over the city. As the train slows and they stand up to get dressed and make sure they’ve not left anything behind, Fjord’s heart is beating fast in his chest. To think that mere hours ago he just wanted the trip to be over with, and now he wishes it would never end.   
  
Once outside, Fjord looks up, expecting to see stars, forgetting for a moment the light pollution that was non-existent far to the north. The air here is warmer, and he finds he misses the sharpness of the winter air.   
  
He turns to offer Jester help with her luggage, only to see her step off with no issue.   
  
“Do you have a place to stay until you can go back to Port Damali?”   
  
“I was planning to stay at the same hostel as when I headed north. It’s just a short distance from here.”   
  
“I’m sure mama would be fine if you wanted to come stay with us,” Jester says, suddenly looking a bit shy, before adding, “just until the next train leaves, I mean! You shouldn’t have to spend the holiday alone, stuck in a motel.”   
  
“Sure,” Fjord replies, smiling down at her.   
  
“Really?”   
  
“Yeah, Jester, really.”   
  
“I’ll call mama and let her know then! Oh, and maybe she’ll even sing for you!”   
  
Fjord watches as she walks a few feet away, fishing her phone out of her pocket as she does. He catches himself smiling at her still, how animated her face is as she talks to her mother on the phone, the quick glances she throws his way.   
  
He clutches the symbol of the Wildmother in his hand, sending a silent thank you to her, and making a promise to Caduceus for making him come visit.   
  
Because if not, he would never have met Jester. And he would never have had the best Winter’s Crest of his life.

**Author's Note:**

> This wasn't supposed to go up until the 23rd but I've had such a shitty time lately and I just need the positive feedback okay?


End file.
